Chapter Text
Despite his hulkish size and brutish appearance, Jonah Walsh was not a stupid man. People often assumed that he was below average intelligence - especially when he had been teamed up with The Brains, who made everyone look stupid by comparison - but he was certainly smarter than others gave him credit for. After all, he wouldn't have been able to plot and connive right under James's nose, or to go into business for himself, or to draw his old partner out and lure him into this elaborate trap, if he weren't intelligent.
Walsh didn't mind people underestimating his brains, though. He used to bristle at it, back in his overwatch days - being the muscles to someone else's brain had a way of making one feel inferior after a while, especially when most people praised the brain and looked down on the muscle. But now… now, Walsh saw being underestimated as an advantage. It made people let their guard down, speak more freely in front of him… and when he proved to them that he wasn't just the Hulk but had a side of Bruce too, it was positively delicious to prove himself and bring his judges down, notch by notch.
It was happening again. James's arrogance had either tripled since they'd parted ways, or he'd forgotten how closely he had worked with Walsh back in the day, how well Walsh knew him, and how Walsh wasn't nearly as stupid as people assumed. Whatever the reason, Walsh could hardly believe the man now, spouting off some nonsense about how he needed an extra set of hands attached to a person who was smart enough to help him with the serum. Honestly, Walsh couldn't blame him for trying, but it was so obvious what James was doing.
Throwing out a snarky insult on the state of the lab, trying to direct any ire Walsh might have in his direction away from his kid.
Wielding his inflated sense of importance and intelligence in assuming that no one in the compound had any idea of how anything in this lab worked, all to establish dominance as the smartest person - and therefore, the most important person - in the room.
Claiming to need another set of hands and specifying that since no one in the compound is smart enough to even be in the same room as the great James MacGyver, there's only one set of hands that will do the trick, attempting to get Walsh to bring his kid in that door and give Mini-Mac, who has already proven to have his dad's brains, maybe then some, access to the dangerous chemicals that would be all too easy to mix up and use to orchestrate an escape.
And Walsh was supposed to fall for this load of BS?
Yeah, right.
Still, he wasn't heartless. He'd bring the kid in here. But not for the reason James had in mind. No, Walsh himself had another use for the kid.
Thinking about it, maybe he was heartless, after all.
Smirking, he allowed his deep voice to rumble in the direction of the open door, all while maintaining eye contact with his ex-partner.
"Bring in baby boy!"
James dragged his gaze from Walsh's to assess his son as Walsh's men dragged Angus into the room. After a quick once-over, James saw that the kid was fine, just a little rumpled from being searched and manhandled. There was no need to ask him if he was okay, then. Showing concern would make James himself appear weak to Walsh, and by proxy would make Angus more of a target. So he just sent a brief nod his son's way and turned back to Walsh.
"All right, Jonah, Angus and I will get started whenever you're ready." It was a forced-polite way to say, "Tell your man to get his paws off the kid."
Walsh didn't move. The only thing that changed was his expression, as he allowed an unsettling smile to twist his lips. "You're really not as bright as you lead everyone to believe, are you, James?" Walsh taunted.
"What are you talking about, Jonah? I said I'll make the damn serum; if you want me to get it done within your time frame, you need to let my son help and get yourself out of my hair."
"I know you don't need a second set of hands there, Brainiac," Walsh sneered, and despite his cool facade, James felt his heart speed up. "I recognize what you're trying to pull. You forget how long I worked with you, standing over your shoulder, watching you wheedle and trick and science your way out of unwanted situations. You didn't think I'd recognize it if you tried to pull one over on me?"
With a dark chuckle that nearly made James falter in his stoic resolve, Walsh took a deliberate step towards Angus. He addressed the kid in a tone that could almost pass for fatherly, if not for the gleam in his eyes and muscles coiled for action. "If you were my kid, I would never have left you. Bright kid like you… I'd'a stuck around, nurtured you, spent time with you, watched to see what you'd become." The pseudo-kind voice took on a dark and dangerous edge. "To have your old man leave you like that, no goodbye… kid, that must'a been a punch in the gut."
With that, he buried his fist in the kid's stomach. James watched, tense, as Angus doubled over in agony, gasping. Walsh didn't give him much of a reprieve, because moments later his meaty hand was meshed in Angus's hair, yanking his head up. James watched, transfixed and helpless, as his son's neck, exposed and completely vulnerable, bobbed as he swallowed.
"Now," Walsh said, all illusions of niceties gone now, "let's get one thing straight, James. Whatever escape plan you were concocting with your boy, you're going to forget it, now. In fact, you're going to stop thinking of escape plans all together. You're going to make that formula. I watched the last guy, before, ya know, I killed him, and I have a pretty good idea of what's right and wrong. So if I get any inkling that you're doing anything other than making the serum, if you hesitate or argue, I'm going to hurt baby boy here. Do we have a deal?"